Christmas at Quantico
by TutorGirlml
Summary: A chapter for each, imagining how the members of the BAU team spend their Holidays
1. Chapter One: Hotch

(Hey everyone! I hope all of you reading this had a wonderful Christmas and will be blessed with a happy and exciting New Year! I just can't seem to resist writing something Christmas-y, and even though I'm a few days late, I'm hoping to have this mostly posted by New Year's Day. It's a set of holiday one-shots, a chapter or a one-shot for each member of the BAU team. Please enjoy, and don't worry I'll be posting on "Trial by Fire" before my break ends as well. I am proud of it so far, but don't want to push it and not have it be as good as it could be. I will finish soon though; I haven't abandoned a story yet! Enjoy this for now, more soon, I promise! And, of course, I still own nothing even remotely connected to "Criminal Minds." I'm only imagining things I wish they'd do!!)

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter One: Hotch

"_I'll be home for Christmas,_

_you can count on me_

_Please have snow and mistletoe_

_and presents under the tree_

_Christmas Eve will find me_

_where the love light leads_

_I'll be home for Christmas,_

_if only in my dreams…"_

_-"I'll Be Home for Christmas"_

The stately two-story house on a quiet block in Arlington, Virginia seemed especially, oppressively, silent in the early evening on December 23rd. Aaron Hotchner had twined some greenery around the handrail of the staircase and set up the stately artificial tree they had always used, foregoing the massive assortment of ornaments Haley had always enjoyed sifting through to simply string white lights on its boughs. Tree or not, the house would still seem empty without her there – without her and Jack.

He stood from the wingback chair where he had been pensively contemplating his needless handiwork with the tree and went into the kitchen to get himself a drink. There was really no reason for him to have even bothered putting all the Christmas decoration up; he certainly didn't feel like celebrating alone. But the though of the amazed look on Jack's little face and the way he had grinned, transfixed, and clapped his pudgy little hands when the tree was lit last year, had made Hotch put the tree up anyway. At least it would be there for Jack to see whenever Haley did let him visit over Hotch's holiday vacation time.

The "missing them" feeling of wanting his wife and son with him was an actual gaping hole within him – an ache that didn't stop or ever leave the back of his mind. He knew that he wasn't hiding it; his team had noticed the way it drove him even harder since work was all he had left now. He that that he had become even more vigilant, dedicated, and single-minded in his work since the night he came home and found his family gone. His home had been ripped apart so simply after all the years spent building it, leaving him alone to live in the empty shell that was simply not enough.

More now this evening than ever, Hotch let himself admit as he made his way back to the armchair he had vacated with the neat Scotch he'd poured himself and stared at the unlit tree in the light of the lamp beside him, that this was not his home. Not anymore. Possibly, without Haley and Jack, he didn't have a home at all. There was nothing to come home to.

All through his career with the BAU, not matter where they had been, no matter how long he had been gone, his wife and child – his family – waiting for him at home had given him a purpose for his fight and a goal at the end of each journey. Now there was just the work for its own sake, weighing him down, without his reason for doing it. The two reasons he had been trying so hard to make a better world were gone. It had been for them, and now it was all for nothing.

He sat a few more minutes, nursing his drink in small, stinging sips and thinking thoughts that he knew were getting him nowhere. Finally, he hauled himself back out of the chair, went to the kitchen and dumped the golden liquid down the sink from the tumbler that was still mostly full. He had never been much of a drinker, even in his blackest moments of despair or anger, there were too many fuzzy memories – memories Hotch knew he had allowed his subconscious to muddy and bury deep for self-preservation – from childhood that had never once allowed him to get drunk or lose that death-grip he held on control.

He turned, straightened the tie and dress shirt he was still wearing, and grabbed the suit jacket he had draped over the back of the kitchen chair. Plucking his keys back out of the dish in the foyer, he stepped back out his door and headed down the front walk into the lightly falling new snow.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

BAU headquarters were still lit much more brightly and had many more cars still parked in the lot than there ever usually were at that time of night, due to the Bureau's Annual Holiday Party. He had not intended to go, fearing honestly that he would drag down his team and the rest of their department's good time with his less-than-jovial and lighthearted mood. Now, however, he realized as he stepped into the elevator and headed up to the BAU's floor, that he had quite possibly been wrong.

Stepping out on his familiar floor, Hotch could see into the bullpen, lit by a tree in one corner, garland on the railings, and the happy chatter of people mingling and enjoying refreshments and each other's company without being consumed by gruesome cases. His gaze zeroed in on his own team, warming considerably as it did. They weren't excluding others, but they were gathered loosely to themselves near the ramp up to JJ's office – all of them but Dave. JJ stood in the middle of their little cluster, looking as if she positively glowed as the other laughed at her instructing Reid on how to take Henry from her and hold him comfortably without setting off screaming and tears. Garcia and Emily were obviously both waiting for their turns, fingers itching to take the adorable little bundle off of Reid's hands as soon as they could. Morgan was standing back, chuckling at his younger friend's predicament, but Hotch knew the taller man wouldn't have been much more comfortable with the baby himself and that was why he had taken the caution of putting both Reid and Garcia between himself and the proud new mom. Reid himself was blushing profusely at the attention, and his own discomfort, looking extremely nervous. A closer glance, though, told a different story. Their youngest profiler was also obviously pleased that JJ wanted him to hold her son and that she had named him, of all people, as Henry's godfather. There was a gently tender look in Spencer Reid's eyes as he cradled the small child and Henry gurgled happily, blinking up at him instead of crying and being scared.

Coming up to his team, Hotch found himself beginning to smile unconsciously and finally felt some warmth spreading through his insides which had felt horribly frozen, not just that night, but for months now. Emily noticed him first, looking up and then smiling happily as she called out a greeting and waved him over.

Reid looked up at him, his wide eyes sparkling with excitement as he urged his supervisor to see Henry snuggled comfortably in his arms. "Hotch! I think he actually likes me!"

Hotch couldn't help chuckling lightly, his eyes also twinkling merrily at Reid's surprised joy and the rest of his team's cheerful greetings. They _did _want him here. "Yes, Reid, I'd say he does like you," was all he spoke aloud.

JJ stepped to his side, resting her small, manicured hand on his forearm and giving it a light squeeze. When he looked down to see what she needed she was smiling up at him – a small, knowing smile – her eyes seeming to say that she knew exactly what he had been thinking and struggling with all evening, and what had finally brought him here. It was that look she had that made Hotch wonder if she might be as good or better a profiler as the rest of them if she ever wanted to try the job. "I'm glad you came," she said quietly. "You should be here with us."

Hotch felt himself still smiling at her in return, and then looking around at the rest of his team. They spent the majority of their days, and weeks, and months together – year in and year out. They supported each other, trusted each other, bailed each other out, saved each other's necks, and had each other's backs. Their job was certainly not easy, and his life was not as perfect or normal and composed as he'd had it and thought it would continue to be, but this was what he loved to do. He was good at it, and these people made him better. There were no other people he would rather spend so much time with. In a way, this team was as much his family as anyone he was related to by blood. Here, surrounded by them and in his element, he did still have a way to find some gratitude and joy for the holiday, and a place and loved ones to return to after all…a home.


	2. Chapter Two: Rossi

Once again, just a little bit of Christmas fiction, wondering what each of the BAU members might be doing during the holidays. Thanks for reading and letting me hear your thoughts. I still don't own them! (Wouldn't that be fun, though?)

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Two: Rossi

"_God rest ye merry gentlemen,_

_let nothing you dismay_

_Remember Christ our Savior_

_was born on Christmas Day_

_to save us all from Satan's power_

_when we were gone astray_

_Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,_

_comfort and joy_

_Oh, tidings of comfort and joy…"_

_-"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen"_

Supervisory Special Agent Dave Rossi stood in the midst of a crowded, bustling, noisy mass of people moving, eating, talking, calling out to each other, and shuffling through the line he was serving in at one of the DC area's many overwhelmed soup kitchens. And amid all the chaos and commotion, he found more of the Christmas spirit than he ever had within himself or with the meager scraps of family he had to call his own.

Three failed marriages had left him no immediate family, except for two bitter ex-wives who were completely entitled to the ill will they bore him, and his first wife, one saintly soul who was still simply a friend to him. He'd had dinner with she and her new husband as he often did at some point during the holiday season. Rossi had taken them an expensive bottle of brandy as a gift, the amber liquid inside the exact color of her eyes, though he had kept it to himself, he had always found her similarly intoxicating eyes her best feature. God knew they both deserved an expensive gift for putting up with him and giving him the one taste of a family holiday that he would get. He and Brenda had realized mutually – and before they'd grown to hate each other – that they were never meant to be. Simply put, he wasn't one to be home for supper each night and lavish attention on someone who'd been waiting all day to talk to him, and she wasn't built to love a man who was never fully there with her. Brenda had somehow managed – unlike his other two exes – to not completely blame him, and they had remained friends. Perhaps because they had known each other since their late teens and had always been friends, even at the end of their marriage. Once the sadness had faded, their friendship and connection had remained, despite the improbability of that happening.

Dave Rossi had been an only child, and his parents had been gone some five years now, which left him pretty much alone. Most of the time, he was glad of it. He worked better as a loner; he had never been one for making idle conversation, and wasn't dependent on having company or others near. He worked better without being tied down or having people to worry about failing or being put into danger for being close to him. It was why he had always felt like he was so good at his job – he wasn't carrying many liabilities that people could use to get to him, and there wasn't much keeping him grounded to his own comfort zone and from getting into an unsub's.

It was a good thing that he had never had children – that none of his unions had lasted long enough for that. It would have been both painful and irresponsible to drag a child through his second and third vicious divorces and he couldn't have been the sort of father he would have hoped to be. In fact, failure or success of the marriages aside, he wasn't sure he had ever had the desire to be a father; wasn't sure he had it in him. If he hadn't already thought about these things, seeing what Aaron was going through right now would have been enough to firm his convictions. Watching Aaron cycle through crippling guilt, helpless anger, and sadness over Haley's taking Jack with her and how few and far between the fleeting moments of joy when he did get to he his was, was gut-wrenching, even when someone managed to conceal as much of his emotions as Hotch did. Rossi knew he wouldn't risk putting himself through something like that.

Instead, he was glad to get out of the BAU for a few days and do something pleasant to help mankind and recharge for a few days. He knew that he and his team's work as profilers was important and beneficial, but it was also grim and never-ending. There would never stop being damaged, psychotic criminals coming up with new and despicable ways to harm and kill their fellow man. It was nice to forget that for a while and take the chance to do something simple, and of more immediate good.

On this note, he glanced up to see a middle-aged man in line next, his arm around the shoulders of a dark-haired woman with just a few thin veins of gray beginning to shoot through her curling, shoulder-length hair. With them was a little, dark headed girl with the woman's heart-shaped face and the man's thoughtful, sparkling brown eyes.

"Merry Christmas," Rossi spoke, a genuine half-smile touching his lips as he nodded to them and began to ladle the stew he was serving into their bowls. Though the man looked tired, worn, and older than his years, there was also a look of dignity and wisdom in his face that belied what was obviously a current run of bad luck and sad circumstances. His love and care for whom Rossi could only assume were his wife and child were clear as he ushered them ahead of himself to get food first. The soft 'thank you' he offered Rossi after getting his own serving expressed both a sense of shame that he could not better provide for his family and also the bearing and manners of one for whom things had not always been this way. There was a flinty determination there that made Rossi feel certain this man would pick himself up again and his family would not be here next year.

Continuing to serve those who came through his line, Dave Rossi offered simple holiday wishes and food. But he continued to watch the little family as well as he worked. They had settled themselves nearby and were now talking and laughing together happily, as if they couldn't be happier anywhere else, even if it were the finest mansion instead of a poor soup kitchen.

Watching them, he felt blessing warmth spreading inside, despite the dispassionate aloofness he usually maintained. The realization was just what he had needed this holiday season. There were still devoted families and decent people in the world, just as there was still kindness, charity, and good. As he watched these people before him, satisfied even in their struggles, he was encouraged. It was easier to face another year chasing the worst of humanity once he was able to see and remember the best of it…the good that they were fighting to preserve.


	3. Chapter Three: Garcia

_(I hope this story has been enjoyable so far! Thanks for reading! This chapter and the previous two have all been supposedly happening on December 23__rd__, just in case anyone was wondering. The next one will be on Christmas Eve, and so on from there. I still don't own them, and I'm figuring none of the stuff I imagine in this will ever be happening with the real characters, it's all just in my imagination!)_

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Three: Garcia

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas

_Let you heart be light_

_From now on our troubles will be out of sight_

_Through the years, we all will be together,_

_if the Fates allow_

_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,_

_and have yourself a merry little Christmas now…"_

_-"Have Yourself a Merry Little Chirstmas"_

Penelope Garcia came in the doorway of her small, cozy little apartment wrapped warmly in her coat, her cheeks flushed red from the cold wind and lightly falling snow outside, but a smile on her face. Hanging her coat and scarf on the hook by the door, she cheerily left the entryway, humming to herself and remembering the pleasant BAU party she had just come from as she meandered happily into the kitchen.

Her smile growing ever broader, she busied herself getting two tall peppermint-striped mugs, the carton of eggnog she'd bought at the grocery earlier that day, and the peanut butter blossoms she'd made that afternoon out of the cookie jar and onto a platter. As if it hadn't been exciting enough to spend some off-time with the team – her friends and surrogate family – this evening, actually seeing Hotch smile, sweet baby Henry, and JJ's pride and joy over him, now she was about to have company for this holiday evening. It was a luxury she didn't often have, what with having no family to speak of and few friends outside of the BAU. She spent most years entertaining herself around Christmas time, relaxing and celebrating the best she could on her own, in hopes of beginning to believe that she was fine and happy that way. But maybe, just maybe, this year was going to be different.

Derek had asked her if he could come over and join her in whatever decorating, caroling, Christmas movie-watching, or other holiday activities she had going. He said that he wanted to spend some time just the two of them, no one could get him more in the seasonal spirit than his own "personal Christmas elf." Apparently, he had planned to go to Chicago to visit his mother and sisters at home, but the city had suffered a major snowstorm and no planes were taking off or landing at Chicago O'Hare for him to get there now. Fran Morgan had understood but was sorry that her baby hadn't been able to come home for Christmas.

Penelope warned herself not to get too excited by his deciding he wanted to hang out with her instead; he just didn't want to be alone since he couldn't get to his family. They were best friends after all. She didn't dare to hope for more than that and she truly loved their friendship. They time they spent together outside of work playing board games, dishing and laughing about disastrous blind dates, or whatever else they did together was wonderful. If she sometimes had to battle down an errant wave of attraction for him, well then, it was a price she had always been willing to pay if the alternative was not to have him in her life at all.

Just as she was setting the refreshments on the coffee table and dragging her box of wrapping paper and bows out to wrap her gifts while they watched a movie, there was a hearty knocking at the door. "Come in, Morgan! It's unlocked!" she called out, now digging through her old VHS tapes for Judy Garland's "Meet Me in St. Louis." She thought that Morgan would probably protest the movie on first sight, but it was a hard-to-resist classic, and she thought he would enjoy it if she got him to give it a chance.

"Hey, Mama," his voice came from behind her jovially. "Don't you think you should make sure you know who's at the door before you let them walk right in? I wouldn't want some crazy taking off with my own scrumptious Christmas cookie," he winked, his grin both disarming and heart-melting as he dazzled her with yet another flirtatious nickname.

"Flatterer," she admonished, rolling her eyes at him playfully as she pushed the movie she'd finally located into the VCR, plopped onto the couch, and patted the seat next to her. "No one is going to run off with me, Handsome. Now come over here and help me wrap the rest of these presents and watch this movie with me. I've already got snacks out for us."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking his seat and the roll of Scotch tape she handed him, tearing pieces and handing them to her as she needed them, while she proceeded to cover her gifts for Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, Reid, and JJ in brightly colored paper.

When she turned to him, saying brightly, "Well, that's done! Thanks for the help, Stud Muffin," he blinked at her, surprised.

"And just where is my present, Baby Doll?" he teasing, faking hurt. "I've got yours with me."

"You can't have yours yet!" she teased back. "Naughty elves don't get to help with presents, and I won't give you your present at all if you're not patient." Her eyes twinkled and he wondered even more what his present might be, but he let it go; she obviously had a plan she wasn't ready to reveal yet.

"Fine, keep your secret, you vixen. Why don't you tell me what the deal is with this movie? It doesn't seem to have anything to do with Christmas."

"Give it a minute, it will. They wrote my favorite Christmas song just for Judy Garland to sing in this movie."

Morgan conceded defeat on all points, as he usually did with his goddess. She could out-flirt, out-argue, and out-talk him as no one else ever had, and he didn't really mind a bit. He took a sip of eggnog, one of her delicious cookies, and settled back into the couch to watch the movie. As it reached the winter scene where the Christmas Dance is over and Judy Garland is crying as she and Tom Drake realize they are in love, but with her leaving St. Louis their romance probably won't survive, Morgan felt Penelope's beautiful, soft blonde curls tickling his neck as her head came to rest lightly on his shoulder. It felt perfect, and a smile grew unstoppably on his face as he put an arm around her and tucked her easily into his side. They cuddled like that as Judy began singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and the song touched him in a way it never had before. As a favorite holiday song for Garcia, it totally fit. There was no occasion or person she couldn't make merrier just by being her wonderful, amazing self, and he also knew that she'd often had to create joy out of the difficult hand she'd been dealt earlier in life. They stayed that way – perfectly contented – for the rest of the movie.

When the credits rolled, she looked up at him curiously, "So, Gorgeous, what'd you think?"

"I liked it more than I thought I would," he admitted, smiling down at her and unable to resist lightly pecking a kiss to her adorable button nose. "I can see why that's your favorite carol too."

"Good," she smiled, touching his cheek for a second before she disentangled herself and stood to turn off the TV, rewind the movie, and take their dishes to the kitchen. Once he'd looked at her that way, she'd had to put some distance between them, if only for a second or two, or she would have done a lot more than just touch his face. Her heart was thrumming wildly inside her chest until she thought she could actually feel the spurts of blood gushing through her veins. Was she right to even consider giving him the gift she'd planned for him? But at least then she would know…

He followed her, leaning easily in the doorframe of her kitchen, watching her with an amused light in his warm, hypnotic eyes as she dumped the dishes into the sink and placed her hands on the counter, keeping her back to him while she gathered herself for a minute. "I noticed there wasn't a gift for Lynch in that stack we wrapped," he observed mildly, wondering if she would comment and ease his curiosity or not. He knew he had not reason for Penelope's boyfriend to irk him as much as he did, but his jealousy was stronger than he liked to admit.

She gave a soft sigh, but turned to look at him, a small, sad little smile on her face. "That's because we're not dating anymore, Nosey – not that's it's any of your business."

Morgan's expression changed, surprised obvious on his features and also chagrin as if he were afraid he had hurt her by bringing it up. "I'm sorry, Baby Girl. I didn't know."

"Not a big deal, Hot Stuff. I'm the one who ended it, and how would you have known, since I didn't tell you?"

Morgan walked closer to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, then pulling her into a hug and lightly kissing the top of her head. "No reason I should know…I just…you seemed so happy when the two of you started dating, and though I didn't really like Kevin Lynch, I would hate to see you hurting."

"I'm fine," she promised, meeting his eyes fully and smiling in a way than convinced him. "I couldn't keep dating Kevin, not when I-" but she quickly stopped herself and wouldn't finish what she'd started to say.

"What is it, Mama?" he asked.

"Never mind, forget it," she said quickly, heading for the living room again. "What do you want to watch next? "The Grinch" or "It's a Wonderful Life?"

He followed her and sat beside her, but turned to face her. "Neither for the moment," he replied. He'd wanted to say this smoothly, but now suddenly he was almost nervous. "I want to give you your present."

"Okay," she smiled back at him gamely.

"It's not really something that I could wrap," he whispered, voice suddenly going raspy on him. He leaned forward, tilting her face up to him with a finger under her chin. "Now that I know Lynch isn't in the picture, maybe I can finally get this said. I realized it after you were shot, but when I told you that night, I don't think you realized that I meant it the way I did. I love you, Penelope Garcia. I'm hoping my present will convince you of how much."

Then his lips were on hers, gentle, feather-light, carefully exploring, asking, showing her his true feelings and insisting that she believe. One of his strong hands was rubbing a small circle at her waist and the other was gently caressing her hair. She couldn't help but lean into the kiss and find that the man she'd been in love with all along – the reason she'd broke up with Kevin and hadn't ever had eyes for anyone else – loved her back. She shivered under his fingers, and he smiled against her lips, pride running through him at her reaction.

Suddenly she pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving as she panted, "Okay, you win. I'm going to give you your present now too. Wait a second, it's in the other room. I'll go get it and then you can come and see."

Morgan waited, laughing to himself again at her antics and finding that he was even more curious to what in the world could be so important that they'd had to put their first, mind-blowing kiss on hold. Finally, her voice called out, "Alright, I'm ready! You can come see it now…" but it wavered slightly at the end, as if her voice broke.

Puzzled, Morgan's brow furrowed as he followed in the direction she had gone. He paused, realizing he was about to walk into her bedroom, and asked, "Garcia, are you sure you want me in there?" For some reason, his heart was pounding harder as he awaited her answer.

"Yes, come in," she responded from the other side of the door.

Derek pushed the door open, stepped in looking for her in the dim lamplight, and then felt his jaw drop open as his eyes found her across the room. She stood before him, looking anxious, but smiling hopefully, not longer wearing the jeans and billowy peasant top she'd had on, but red, lacy lingerie and a red, gauzy and mostly see-through robe over them that trailed all the way down to her ankles but left little to the imagination. He really tried to tear his eyes away to look back up at her face, but for a moment he couldn't. He couldn't move or speak or even breathe, just drink her in with his eyes, her generous, luscious curves, and her smooth, flawless skin, and the offering she seemed to be giving him. When he finally did meet her eyes, he noticed the green bow she'd placed atop her head and finally found the presence of mind to smile at her brightly and take a step towards her. "Angel, are you…?"

But she put a hand out, clutching his, and interrupted, stuttering out an explanation. "Derek…I-I love you too. More than you know. And I've…been trying to protect my heart for so long, telling myself you couldn't…couldn't p-possibly feel the same, that I c-couldn't even see that you did. I-I finally decided after Kevin that…I had to be honest with you. My plan was to tell you that I give you me…all of me…for Christmas. I-I wasn't g-going to be quite this bold about it, b-but when y-you said what you did out there, well…it convinced me to go for broke." Her eyes sparkled glassily as if she might be fighting tears and her hand was trembling in his as he pulled her into his arms.

"Shh, it's okay, I love the gift," he kissed her forehead, "and I love you, Penelope. There's no present in the world I could love more. You don't even realize how beautiful you are to me. But you don't have to…we don't have to tonight…we just realized…"

"No," she whispered, stroking a bright red fingernail along his cheek, now blinking rapidly but looking much less nervous after his words, her eyes warming with both mischief and something else entirely. "I want to – if you do."

He merely nodded, swallowing hard. Obviously he did. And someday he'd find some way to do something equally as amazing for her as what she had just done for him.

"Well then, why don't you unwrap your Christmas gift, Handsome?" She winked at him and he was quick to do as he was told. It was turning out to be a much merrier and more wonderful Christmas than either of them had imagined…


	4. Chapter Four: Morgan

Wow! Hey folks it's good to be adding another chapter again. I'm sorry I've left you stranded on two different stories for quite a while here; it honestly wasn't intentional! Hopefully you will still enjoy these latest offerings, late as they are. As usual, I don't own "Criminal Minds" or any of the characters, I'm just borrowing them! Thanks for reading!

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Four –Morgan

"Slide on over baby, underneath this mistletoe

_Here's a toast to us together, let me wrap you in this bow,_

_I'm in the Christmas spirit, no this one won't be blue,_

_It'll be the best one ever, and it's all because of you_

_Oh, you're the angel at the top of my tree_

_Best present anybody ever gave to me_

_I've got it decorated, all lit up, gifts underneath,_

_But you're the angel at the top of my tree…"_

_- "The Angel at the Top of my Tree" (Kenny Chesney)_

The next morning, Christmas Eve, Derek Morgan woke earlier than usual, well before Penelope, and even before the sun had fully emblazoned the sky, in the light gray, still dawning hour. Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, for a moment he was confused as to where he was – in an uncertain bed and unfamiliar room – until he sat up slowly and saw his goddess curled up beside him, her blond curls disheveled and glowing almost white in the shafts of sunlight just starting to peek through the blinds.

Smiling warmly, he gazed down at her, wanting to run his hands down her neck and over her smooth, bare shoulders, fingers itching to lose themselves in her platinum mane again. But he wanted to let her sleep – loved being able to see her in so peaceful and unguarded a moment. Another idea came to him suddenly and a grin crossed his face, making his eyes twinkle devilishly as he slipped out from under the covers, pulled on the boxers hastily discarded at the foot of the bed the night before, and slipped from the bedroom into the kitchen.

It took Morgan a bit to find all the fixings he needed when he wasn't in his own kitchen, but soon he was dipping bread in egg and flipping French toast on a griddle, sausages in a skillet, and boiling syrup on the back burner. His sisters still teased him mercilessly about the meal he had once ruined as a child trying to use the stove, but he'd actually grown into a rather skilled cook, and he loved doing it on the odd occasion that he got the chance. By the time Penelope shuffled in looking bewildered in her robe and without her glasses, the kitchen smelled heavenly.

"Derek, what are you up to?" she mumbled, brain still foggy with sleep, but smiling anyway, dazed and surprised that he was really there in her kitchen cooking her breakfast.

He turned, startled, at the sound of her voice, looking remarkably like a kid caught playing baseball in the house. Then his eyes narrowed teasingly, and he waggled a finger at her. "I'm trying to make you breakfast in bed, but now you've ruined it by not being in bed anymore."

She grinned, making her way over to the kitchen island and seating herself on one of the tall stools scooted up to it. "Well, I'm still very impressed, Honey Bun. Whether I'm in bed or sitting at the table. I never take the time to make myself this kind of a breakfast…It smells delicious."

"Least I could do in return for the best Christmas present anyone's ever given me. Now eat up and enjoy." He placed a plate of French toast and sausage before her as he spoke, along with the syrup and butter while placing a kiss to her forehead. "I wanted to do this for you."

But she reached out to catch him by the wrist and pull him back, half-standing to kiss his bare bicep and then lean into his warm body for a minute. Morgan wrapped his arms around her, holding her there, thinking that it actually felt as though there was an angel huddled in his embrace, warming him from the outside in. He couldn't remember a time since he was a very small child ever waking up feeling so happy and at peace.

After they'd sat down to share their breakfast in companionable silence, occasionally glancing up quickly to smile or wink at each other or steal each other's sausage links, Derek eventually asked, smiling brightly, his eyes lighting her up inside again, "So, Angel, what is our plan for Christmas Eve? I know you must have something fun in mind…you always do…"

Garcia didn't answer him for a moment, looking as if she were getting a delicious amount of enjoyment from keeping him in suspense as she savored the last bite of French toast she had popped into her mouth. Then she leaned forward, so close that for a moment their noses were almost touching, then gave him a quick kiss on the lips before sitting back triumphantly and announcing, "You'd better believe it, Sweet Cheeks. We're going caroling!"

Derek's eyebrows rose skeptically as he repeated her words. "Caroling? Are you serious? Have you ever heard me sing, Baby Girl? There's a reason for that."

"Oh come on, it's the thought that counts. People love being visited and sung to. It has nothing to do with having a perfect voice. It'll be fun!" She tugged on his hand, giving hi the puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips. It didn't take long for him to cave.

"Alright, you've got me, Sweetness. Let's do it. Your wish is my command."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Hours later, they came back up Penelope's front sidewalk, faces red from so much time in the cold, but laughing together at the way her lonely elderly neighbor – the last stop on their caroling route – had reacted to seeing them on her doorstep, eventually getting them inside and feeding them warm, fresh-baked gingerbread. Fat, fluffy white snowflakes were falling all around them, looking sparklingly beautiful in the streetlights that broke the gathering evening darkness. Penelope turned to face Derek, mouth opening to tease him again about his gravelly, less-than-stellar singing voice when he surprised her by grabbing her around the waist and pulling her with him into the snow bank next to her walk.

Falling into the soft bed of white powder, she let out a squeal, grabbing a handful of snow and shoving it into his face in retaliation. Bellowing in protest at the cold, he caught her hands before she could do anymore damage, and held her captive while pulling her closer to kiss her thoroughly as they lay there in the snow.

Giggling, she pulled away to whisper in his ear, "We're making a funny-looking snow angel, Hot Stuff."

"Somehow I'm not too worried about that," he responded, lightly kissing her forehead, then trailing his warm lips down the side of her face and neck, the cold long forgotten. "You still look like an angel. If I could put you on the top of my tree, I'd have the most beautiful ornament anyone ever saw. This is definitely the best Christmas I've had in my life."

She blushed, "Come on, Casanova. Enough with the sweet talk, you're embarrassing me. Let's go in and make some hot chocolate while our clothes dry."

He stood and reached out his hands to pull her up as well. "I can think of some other ways to warm ourselves up while those clothes are drying…" he insinuated, waggling his eyebrows.

"I like the way you think, my dark, handsome knight in snow boots. If we keep on like this, I'm gonna have to hope this holiday never ends."

Pulling her into his arms again, Morgan could only agree with her as they headed inside together, "Me too, Mama. Me too."


	5. Chapter Five: Prentiss

Okay, here's another chapter, hopefully I can make up for the long wait by giving you more than one installment at once. This story should be finished within in a few days and then I'll be back to "Trial by Fire." I'm all for carrying Christmas feelings all the way into January, so hopefully this will do that for you as well. Again, thanks for reading!

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Five – Prentiss

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas,_

_there is just one thing I need,_

_I don't care about the presents_

_underneath the Christmas tree,_

_I just want you for my own,_

_more than you will ever know,_

_Make my wish come true,_

_Baby all I want for Christmas is you…"_

"_All I Want for Christmas" (Mariah Carey)_

'_Well, this sure is a fine way to spend the holidays,' _Emily Prentiss thought to herself in disappointment, sitting on the couch in her apartment, staring glumly at the lone green and red-striped stocking hanging from her fireplace mantle. _'Christmas night and all alone.'_

She was dressed cozily in a powder-blue long-sleeved thermal shirt, brown stretch leggings that hugged her long, slim legs warmly, and creamy, thick woolen socks that stretched back up over her leggings to mid-calf as she sat staring into the crackling fire and listening to Mariah Carey's classic "Merry Christmas" cd on the stereo. One foot was tucked under her and the other propped on her coffee table as she sipped a flute of deep red Merlot and alternately bit into chocolate-covered pretzels that her aunt had sent her while she struggled to compose what was going to be a late Christmas letter on the legal pad balanced on her knee. _'Classy,' _her sarcastic inner voice mocked her in her mind, _'Wow, Em, you really know how to celebrate in style.'_

Snorting at the ridiculous thought that she was tempted to start defending herself against her own inner voice, she sighed, sat forward and plopped the notepad down on the table, running her hands through her hair, and letting out a frustrated breath before leaning her head in her hands. What was she going to put in a Christmas letter anyway? _'Another year with the BAU, I really enjoy my job…Yesterday we caught a sociopathic couple who were teaching their child how to kidnap and brainwash his future wife…' _Shaking her head, she realized just how preposterous it sounded; certainly not the type of light correspondence her mother had once encouraged her to keep up as a young girl.

Not that it mattered, she'd rarely managed to please her mother in her whole life. Even now, her mother was halfway across the world, at a new position in Switzerland, working as an ambassador again. She'd called her daughter a week ago, ecstatic with the news that she had once again found a political opening. She had told Emily that she couldn't possibly leave her new post so soon to come home for Christmas, wished her a 'Happy Holiday,' and Emily hadn't heard from her since. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but she had hoped that someday, as an adult, her mother might view her as more of an equal or a compatriot and actually want to see her, and then Christmas might be different than it was for her growing up. Obviously that had been a pipe dream.

And her father, who had always been the more doting, interested, and involved parent to her was never around now either. Just as Emily had by the time she'd gone off to college and never gone back home to live, her father had gotten tired of being little more than a prop – a part of the perfect exterior picture Ambassador Prentiss presented to the world of an exemplary political figure juggling work and her family with apparent ease. Too bad it was much more polished façade for show than actuality. Her father had called last evening and they'd had a wonderful, hour-long talk, but it was not the same as seeing him in person, and it didn't keep her from sitting here alone when it really mattered.

Sighing, she stood, stretched the kinks from her back and idly roamed over to her Christmas tree, staring at the glowing lights and the assortment of various ornaments from countries all over the world that she had been to throughout her life. They were beautiful and she always enjoyed finding just the one to remember the place by, ever since she was sixteen and had found the beautifully ornate stained glass star that she bought in the Ukraine and that still crowned the top of her tree each year. It was all pretty and festive, but she knew, more than she would ever admit, that she wanted someone to share it all with. Not just Christmas ornaments, but her home, the holidays…her life. It was all she had ever wanted, because even as a child and with her own family, it was something she'd never had.

Then, in a split-second decision, she knew what she had to do. The realization came to her as suddenly as if it had always been there, hidden in the back of her mind, and she had just now finally let it surface. She didn't have to be sitting here alone, and there was someone that she knew would understand the way she felt quite well. Maybe better than anyone else ever had or would; she only had to stop hiding and let him in. It might not lead to a lasting love affair or the passionate kissing at midnight she always found herself dreaming of and wishing for more this time of year (she didn't know if he had ever even thought of her in that light) but for once she wasn't going to bury what she was feeling and what she wanted. She was at least going to find out – if nothing else, neither of them would be sitting alone and they would each have someone to talk to. It was time to find out.

Emily stood quickly, a determined look taking over her features. She marched resolutely into her bedroom, grabbed her brush and pulled it through her hair, then she moved into the entryway to pull on the ridiculous furry Ugg boots she'd known were juvenile when she'd seen them, and yet had been impossible for her to resist buying. Shaking her head at her reflection in the hall mirror, she took a deep breath before she could back out, grabbed her purse and keys, put on her coat and toboggan, and went out into the snowy night.

It was time to stop denying what she wanted and hiding the unhappiness she felt because of it. She was going to do something about it right now.


	6. Chapter Six: Reid

Okay folks! Once again, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy. This one, like last chapter, takes place on Christmas night. Keep reading, one more chapter to go after this. I still don't own them, and never will. But I can certainly enjoy playing with what I'd have them do if I was in charge…

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Six – Reid

"_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,_

_just like the ones I used to know_

_Where the treetops glisten, _

_and children listen_

_to hear sleigh bells in the snow;_

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,_

_with every Christmas card I write_

_May your days be merry and bright_

_And may all your Christmases be white…"_

_- "White Christmas"_

Spencer Reid was pacing around his living room, a cup of coffee in hand that he kept sipping from absently, but he couldn't seem to settle down. He had planned on relaxing, enjoying the day off and watching some traditional Christmas movies, and trying to understand the conventional appeal they were supposed to have.

But for some reason "White Christmas" had served to perplex and upset him instead. Christmas had never been that way for him; all snowflakes and baking cookies and singing carols. He hadn't had little friends to anxiously await Santa with. Instead, his mother and father had encouraged his logical thinking in all ways, and by five or six years old he had realized that there was no possible way Santa could even begin to exist and do all the things people said he could. Needless to say, that while he'd never gone cold or hungry or been without presents, Christmas had never felt as cozy, gleeful, or magical as he knew it did for other people when they remembered childhood holidays. Now he found that he would give up all of his brilliance and intellect for a little of the wonder and childish joy he had never allowed himself, and for the feeling of belonging somewhere with someone and truly feeling for himself what Christmas should be like.

With a sigh, he deserted the living room and Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas" to Rosemary Clooney as snow finally began to fall at the little inn in Vermont and everything in the movie worked out perfectly like some unbelievable modern-day fairytale. All they needed was Merlin or a fairy godmother to wave their magic wand over the whole thing to complete the picture. Disgusted, he meandered into the kitchen and grabbed some cookies from the plate JJ had made for each of them as she was starting to go crazy with all her maternity leave time.

Then, taking his cookies and his coffee back to the living room, he turned off the tv and sat for a moment thinking over his options. He obviously wasn't going to be watching anymore of this ridiculous fluff, since it was rapidly making him depressed instead of entertained. He thought about putting on some Christmas music, but then discarded that idea as well, for the same reason he'd given up the movies – he obviously wasn't going to find the Christmas spirit in going through motions that had no warm memories or significance for him.

It struck him that he could call his mom at Bennington and talk to her for a while. She was, after all, his family. He didn't want her to suffer feeling as alone and forgotten on Christmas as he did. They had been all each other had for the largest portion of his life, and even though he had recently met his father again, he didn't really consider things much changed. She might not even realize that it was Christmas though, or she might be involved in holiday activities the sanitarium was putting on for its residents. Though she usually found those entertainments foolish and trivial, she could have decided to join in. He knew he was just putting off calling her though – afraid it would only make them both feel worse. He would simply check in, see if she had gotten the present he sent (a book on the Tristan and Isolde legend) and let her know he had thought of her. If she wasn't in her room, he'd leave a message for her with the desk nurse.

Reid had just gotten up to reach for the phone when he heard the doorbell of his apartment ring, then someone knocking impatiently several times. Changing course, he headed towards his front door, calling "Just a second, I'm coming!" as he went.

Surprise flitted across his features before turning to disbelief at the person he found on his doorstep when he pulled the door open. "Emily?" he asked curiously, his voice soft and awed by the sight of her on his doorstep surrounded by midnight-blue sky and snowflakes floating around her and landing on her long, dark, upturned lashes. Taking in the rest of her appearance, he was torn between chuckling and letting out an appreciative, Morgan-style wolf whistle, which he knew he had no desire to pull off. In her toboggan, leggings, and ridiculous boots, he had never seen her look both so comically thrown together and adorably, effortlessly sexy. She was literally taking his breath away. "Oh sorry!" he jolted back to reality as he saw her teeth chatter in the cold, and quickly moved out of the doorway so she could pass through. "What are you doing here? Come in." He cringed inwardly as his voice squeaked at the end of his words.

Though he thought he'd hidden it pretty well under his general social awkwardness and shyness around beautiful women, Spencer Reid had been nursing a deep and growing attraction for Emily – one that went well beyond friendly affection and respect for a coworker. Her being suddenly inside his house, looking as beautiful and intriguing as ever, staring into his eyes the way she sometimes did – as if trying to discern his thoughts before he spoke – was causing his heart to pound erratically beneath the cardigan he was wearing. Somehow, he didn't feel equipped to handle being alone with her without slipping up and making a fool of himself, especially on a night when he had already been feeling vulnerable and wishing he weren't so alone.

"Emily?" he prompted again, hoping if he let her take the lead and tell him what she needed, he would be less likely to start blabbering some stream of random trivia at her or grabbing her and pushing her up against the wall to kiss her ravenously – an idea that suddenly and vividly entered his brain in an uncharacteristic flash.

"Oh, right, what I'm doing here…" she started, then trailed off, clasping her fingers in front of her in the uncertain way he had often seen her fidget with her hands back when she had first joined the team, but not for some time now, not since she'd proved herself many times over and known she was one of them. "Well, Reid – I mean, Spencer – I just, well I…"

Reid had honestly never seen her look so flustered. Not by her awe-inducing ambassador mother, the most terrifying unsub, or even Hotch and Gideon's initial scrutiny and suspicion of her. "Hey, Emily, slow down. I'm not going anywhere. And you can call me Spence, if you want…" Now he was trailing off awkwardly, just as she had. He didn't know why he'd told her to call him Spence. No one did that except JJ. He'd once been pleased when he had imagined himself with JJ, but as that moment in time had obviously passed, he'd thought to throw that version of his name out there for her. He liked it, and Emily had seemed to be searching for something more personal than the way they all called each other by their last names at work.

Her fathomless, deep, dark eyes looked up at him, blinking in surprise. Obviously she had noticed, being the gifted profiler that she was, that only JJ called him that. For a moment, Reid found himself holding his breath, thinking he had given himself away. But then, she smiled, truly looking grateful and somehow more at ease at his words, "Thanks…Spence. I just needed to tell you something. And, silly as it seems, I didn't think it could wait."

"Why? What's wrong?" he asked quickly, concern for her distress mixing with his nerves at being alone with her and so close.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," she stepped forward, placing her hands on his forearms to calm him, and then jerking them away as if electrocuted. He felt the current too and reached out to catch her hands in his before she could snatch them back. "Nothing's wrong," she sputtered, "I just needed to talk to you."

"It's fine. I'm glad you came," he assured, pulling her over to the armchair he had vacated minutes before. "Now, take it easy here, let me get you some coffee, and then we can talk about whatever you want. I'd actually be really glad of the company."

"Spence, wait-" she pulled him back before he could walk away to fetch anything from the kitchen. When he turned back toward her, she pulled on his hand until he was leaning down to look into her face quizzically. "I don't need anything to drink, and I didn't really come just to hang out. I came to tell you that I'm tired of sitting in my house alone, tired of feeling like I have no family, and certainly tired of being so alone that I have no one I belong with – not even at Christmas. I thought you might understand. And m-maybe you'd want-" She bit her lip when her voice caught and didn't quite seem able to continue.

Reid finished for her, seating himself on the arm of her chair and slipping a hand behind her head, steadying as he leaned closer. "I do understand, Emily. You have no idea. But I didn't think I'd ever be sitting here staring right at an opportunity to fix things, for both of us. Incredible – We could have done this a long time ago." And without waiting even another minute, he leaned in, pulling her into his arms and leaning in over her. He let his lips take over hers, pressing gently and then gradually growing stronger, meshing perfectly with hers, meeting and answering the plea she'd offered and he'd returned. If he had it his way, this kiss would tell them both they wouldn't have to spend any more holidays alone, but would have someone to come home to from now on. Emily let out a pleased, breathless sigh, and Reid felt his heart soar as he continued ravishing her mouth with a skill he hadn't really known he possessed until finally coming into contact with her. Her hands fisted into the material of his sweater and he felt a tremor run down his spine as he eased into the chair over her.

Outside the window, the snow looked whiter, the stars more bright, and he thought that he finally knew what Christmas should be like.


	7. Chapter Seven: JJ

(Hey everyone! Thanks for your patience and continued support of this story and still reading it even though it's a Christmas fic and it's nearly St. Patrick's Day . This is the final chapter and it's meant to be taking place on New Year's Eve/New Year's Day. It's from JJ's point of view as she's our last team member left. Thanks again, and please let me know what you think. As always, of course, I don't own them, though boy do I sometimes wish I did!)

Christmas at Quantico

Chapter Seven – JJ

"_When you're worried and you can't sleep_

_Just count your blessings instead of sheep,_

_And you'll fall asleep, counting your blessings…"_

_-"Count your B lessings instead of Sheep" from "White Christmas"_

Jennifer "JJ" Jareau had actually moved beyond sleep-deprived and exhausted to a state almost like autopilot as she paced the dim kitchen in her apartment, lit only by the small light over the sink, while she bounced Henry in her arms and tried to still his crying so they could both go back to sleep. Her baby boy, who usually enchanted and entertained her day in and day out, was now wearing her almost ragged. She was on the verge of returning to the BAU and taking the reins back from Jordan, but if she couldn't get a decent night's sleep at some point in the near future, she would never be able to return to her old full steam way of life. She'd loved having time to herself to relax and rejuvenate, and there was nothing like being with her infant son here when he was so young and adorable and seemingly growing every second. It had been good for she and Will as well, and they'd finally worked out a compromise in their relationship and lives that worked for them. Yet, she couldn't possibly deny that she missed the BAU, her team, and her work.

Sighing, she scraped her fingers through her hair to scoop it back off her face and bent her head over Henry's, breathing in the sweet, somewhat milky scent that he always carried and that always managed to calm and soothe her. Bouncing Henry's warm little body while humming quietly and talking sweet nonsense to him, she hoped that eventually the crying would stop. Finally, after several long, drawn-out minutes that felt like an hour, Henry's wails turned into sniffles and grunts, until finally he snuggled into the crook of her neck and snuffled happily as his thumb popped into his mouth.

She walked over to the window and glanced out at the early dawn outside her apartment. She hoped that she and Henry had exited the bedroom before he'd awakened Will. Will had been up with him for the last three nights in a row, and spent most of the day appeasing him as well while she had been on the phone with Hotch, and Jordan, trying to ease the coming transition from Jordan back to her. She adored and respected Jordan, but she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that the mostly-concealed eagerness to have her back which Hotch seemed to be expressing made her feel both proud and cared for as well. She didn't have any desire to actually become a profiler, but the fact that she filled her role with skill and polish, and her team had missed her touch, was immensely satisfying. Selfishly, JJ wouldn't have wanted someone to be able to easily take her place, even though she'd never have wanted to leave her team in a bad spot.

Thinking about the team, made her smile inspite of her weariness as each of their faces came into her mind. She couldn't wait to pal around in Garcia's lair between cases with the outlandish computer tech who was truly her best friend, and with Emily who'd become not only a teammate but almost what she would have imagined a sister would be like if she'd had one. She couldn't wait to tease poor Reid for adorably stumbling over himself in some local sheriff's office and to ruffle his hair when they were on their lunch break, like he was a younger brother she just couldn't help but mess with. She missed Morgan teasing her and occasionally indulging a protective streak towards her which her post-feminist mind usually rebelled from, but found flattering when it came from him, knowing it was only because he truly cared about and valued her. She'd just felt like she was getting to know Dave when she'd had to leave, but it sounded like he'd taken Jordan under his wing when she'd struggled and he deserved to know that she appreciated it. But Hotch….

The man carried so much weight on his own shoulders, besides taking responsibility for all of his team and the guilt when anything happened to any one of them. She couldn't help but try to be his right hand woman and do anything she could to make the job just a little bit easier. She tried to remain as professional and put together as he himself did and to let him know that he was the best team leader and profiler she would ever come into contact with. Even if she couldn't actually put it that plainly into words, she hoped that with her actions and her support, she got that message across to her superior somehow in at least some small way. He was the backbone of them all, and if she could be a bracing strength to him and the rest of them, then that was what she wanted to do, more than anything else.

Henry continued to resist sleep, but was now gurgling happily as he gazed up at her with wide, guileless blue eyes. "You're Mama's beautiful boy, aren't you?" she said to him liltingly, grinning down at his enchanting little face. She tickled him under the chin and planted a kiss to his forehead. "Yes you are, aren't you? I just want you to go to sleep for me. Can't you do that?"

As if mocking her, Henry let out a sweet stream of laughter and kicked his legs happily, completely oblivious to how desperate his mother was to get some rest. "Please, Baby Boy, don't you want to sleep for just a little while?" But she shook her head even as she said it, knowing nothing of the sort was going to happen anytime soon.

For a moment's reprieve, she glanced up at the clock, trying to see just how late it was. Maybe she could get Henry to babble at his godfather or his Auntie Emily, one or the other, if it wasn't too late too late to call either one or both of her teammates. Deciding it was not so much after midnight that Reid at least would be asleep, she dialled the number, thinking that either someone else's voice would soothe Henry into resting or would wake her up by having someone to talk to. Besides, she thought, chuckling to herself as the phone rang, he was the godfather; this sort of the thing should be expected as a part of the deal.

"Hello? Spencer Reid speaking," Reid's voice broke into her thoughts as he answered the phone just then, his voice sounding deeper and scruffier at this hour than it ever did in the office during the day. "Is anyone there?"

JJ hadn't answered right away, the way his voice sounded right then taking her aback. She had to gather her wits about her, and try not to tease him. He sounded downright sexy, and not at all like he'd been asleep. "Ah- yeah, sorry, Reid, I'm here. It's JJ…and Henry…"

Before he could respond though, JJ very distinctly heard someone else enter the room on his end of the line and then they spoke and she dropped the phone in shock. It was Emily's voice that wafted into her ears asking Reid where he'd said he kept the bath towels. She heard a scuffling sound and Reid nervously clearing his throat as she quickly bent down to retrieve the phone from the floor at her feet. Scooping it up and shifting Henry to her other hip, she put the receiver back to her ear in time to hear Reid chuckling nervously before saying, "Hey JJ, how are you? "

Then Prentiss came on the line as well, "Hey, Jaje, is Henry not sleeping for you?"

Reid's voice sounded confused then, "Em, how do you know that's why she called?"

"Call it woman's intuition, Spencer," Emily responded drily, a light happy laugh in her voice evident to JJ even from across a phone line. "JJ, am I right?"

JJ laughed too, knowing poor Spence couldn't be expected to read her mind, as females still completely baffled her genius friend from time to time. However, if what she'd heard of the happenings at his house this evening were any indication, there might be one he seemed to have figured out pretty well. It was sweet how happy the two of them sounded and she couldn't stop the beaming smile that spread across her face. "Well, I was hoping that talking to his godfather might calm him down, so we could both get some sleep," she explained, "but if I'm interrupting something…"

"No, no, it's okay," Reid said eagerly, sounding as though he genuinely was anxious to talk to the little boy. "I'd love to talk to him."

"And I'll talk to him too, if you don't mind?" Emily added.

"Sure, that would be great. You guys have at it. I'll sit down for a minute and hope you have better luck with him than I have been. And maybe you could start by telling us both if you two have something you'd like to share." She was grinning evilly by now, and she knew that if she could see either one of them they would both be blushing.

"Why, JJ, whatever are you implying?" Emily asked, sweetly playing dumb.

"Well, it's just that Spence and I have been friends a long time, but I don't think I've ever had occasion to ask him where the towels are in his bathroom, if you know what I mean…" Henry gurgled happily again, as if he was in on the joke and made them all laugh.

"Fair enough," Emily answered, point taken. "She might as well know, Handsome, what do you think? They'll all find out soon enough anyway."

"JJ, if you must know," Reid said, trying to sound impatient and annoyed, but really just having a little fun with his friend, "I was about to join Emily in the shower, since we've been spending almost every night together since Christmas."

"Reid!" Emily exclaimed, shocked.

JJ coughed and gasped for air, almost choking on her own tongue. Reid never talked like that and he'd definitely caught her off guard. When she could catch her breath again, she managed to get out, "Reid, for heaven's sake! Since when do you talk like that? I'm not sure I want to have Henry's little ear polluted by his godfather's inappropriate talk."

"Okay, okay, we'll both be good," Emily said, laughing at both her new boyfriend and JJ's reaction. "But you might as well know, that granted this just happened, but I haven't been this happy in as long as I can remember."

"Me either," Reid piped in, sounding more chipper and happy than JJ thought she'd ever heard him.

"You two both sound happy," she added, smiling and feeling her heart warming for them. The job they all did was tough, and it was hard to find a person to love you who could understand with the things they faced each day and deal with their schedule week in and week out. "I'm happy for you two, you deserve each other." She honestly didn't know why their dating as a possibility hadn't struck her before now. In some ways, they were so much alike, and they both had been so lonely and needing someone else to really, truly understand them for so long.

She glanced down and saw that somewhere in the midst of their conversation, Henry had finally drifted off. She smiled down at him, glad he was finally asleep and enraptured once again by how innocent and peacefull he looked while he slept. "Guys, hey, not that I wouldn't like to talk some more, but you've done the trick, Henry's finally asleep, and I'm going to put him to bed before he wakes up and starts fussing again."

"Okay, we'll talk to you again soon," Reid said before hanging up.

"Bye, JJ," Emily added.

She hung up the phone and headed upstairs, bending over the bassinet to lay Henry down gently on his pillow. To her relief, he continued to slumber on undisturbed and she looked down on him, suddenly feeling a rush of love and optimism overwhelming her. It was funny, but between the talk she'd just had with Reid and Emily and looking down at her flawless little boy, she couldn't help but somehow feel better about the world as this new year began. The world was a dark, dangerous, horrible place sometimes; she knew that better and more vividly than most. But her friends, her fiance, and Henry, made her feel like there were more blessings in the world than she often thought. She was incredibly lucky, and she knew as she slipped back under the coves on her side of the bed and pressed a light kiss to Will's sleeping shoulder, that she wouldn't stop thinking so anytime soon. She'd take another year in her life over anything else.


End file.
